


of blue feathers and shiny baubles

by Marzue



Series: Batfam 18+ January Prompt Event [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst? no angst here no siree, Animal Transformation, Curses, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, I spent so much time learning about magpies and literally none of it is needed, Magic, just Dick and Jason as birbs, just guys being dudes and bros being crows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzue/pseuds/Marzue
Summary: Dick just wanted a nap.Instead, He's called in on a standard fight that ends up causing a bit more trouble than expected. Now, the batcave is more crow-ded than ever.Day 2: Magic
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Batfam 18+ January Prompt Event [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085816
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54
Collections: Bat Family 18+ Discord Server January Prompt Event





	of blue feathers and shiny baubles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Batfam 18+ Server January prompt list. Special shoutout to ParadoxInsanity for the prompt! I've been having a lot of fun with this one (so much that I decided to split it into two chapters, lol).

Dick needed a vacation. 

Shocker indeed, considering that he was running on T-minus negative four hours of sleep, just off his own case he was pursuing on his lonesome, and STILL jet lagged from a Titans mission in space from three weeks ago (and yes, it turns out the wonders of space  _ could _ get boring after intergalactic dispute #52). 

Either way, Dick had a date with SEVERAL documentaries and a fizzy drink, he deserved it.

Of course, most good things come to an end. Or, for him, never happen to begin with.

Such was his luck, as he received a non-emergency-but-urgent signal from someone in the bat-hoard a mere thirty minutes after he got back to his apartment. Not world ending (certainly not an Arkham breakout), but it was all hands on deck if not otherwise occupied. 

He was officially categorized as ‘not otherwise occupied’, and dragged himself up and away to go save the day. Yay.

It wasn’t until he arrived at the scene of the battle that he realized just what brand of Gotham-tomfoolery they were dealing with, in the form of two amatuer wizards who had somehow gotten the notion they could take over the city (and really, he sighed internally, why  _ Gotham _ , where the vigilantes almost match the civilian populace? Was it something in the food? In the water?). One, wearing awfully tacky blood red robes, had managed to figure out how to ruin perfectly fine small blooded mammals by causing them to grow a  _ substantial  _ amount, while another, clad in a dull gold tunic, had an assortment of street signs and other assorted inanimate objects hovering around and attacking his allies around him. 

Nuisances, but the big issue here seemed to be the number of magical foot soldiers, not the quality of said soldiers. Mere cannon fodder for whatever naive and tomfoolish plan the magicians had hatched.

That had led to Dick’s current predicament.

Dick’s left calf was encased in the primordial goo of what, in his professional opinion, could be classified as a slime monster. Eugh. (And wasn’t that just his luck, that the zoology related magician managed to mess up their spells  _ that  _ badly.) It wasn’t hurting him, at least it didn’t seem to be, but seeing as he could barely move, well. The manners of slime monsters were  _ deplorable _ , and he’d rather just have his leg back, thank you very much. 

Preoccupied as he was with getting his leg slime-free and ambulatory, he barely noticed the flash of magic speeding his way. Nor was he able to do much except try to pivot (unsuccessfully) and bend ( _ very _ successfully) out of the way. Really, he was proud of his contortion. He had to skip his typical stretch warm up in favor of retrieving a pair of files he had stored in paperback copies in his apartment but not digitized on the batcomputer, so he was sort of stiff running into this (ridiculous) fight.

A true shame, though, that the magic missile shot him straight on, even as he struggled his hardest to avoid it. Quite rude of the magician, honestly (he could see where the slime monster got it from). 

The glow of the hex grew brighter, an ominous red flashing in his mind even as he shut his eyes to avoid the worst of it, and as it lit up the only thought racing through his mind was  _ ‘fuck, I just wanted to take a nap.’ _

* * *

It wasn’t hard to fight the wizard’s soldiers, just frustrating, because for every oversized trash can or floating stop light, three more were magically whammied into existence.  _ Congrats, it’s a stop sign! _

They seemed to be doing relatively well, at least from Jason’s vantage point, but the road sign hovering after him was dead set on smacking his helmet off, and Jason  _ really _ didn’t want to go through the effort of retrieving a new one. 

His guns, useless as they were against the magical stooges, were stored away, and instead he used a borrowed bo staff from Tim, who had backups for his backups. _Frickin’ nerd_ , Jason thought as he batted at the sign, successfully connecting with the green arrow. _Serves you right, trying to steal the hood from Red Hood._

At least the spells seemed to be stopping, thanks in part to a well aimed rock thrown by Damian. The irritating flashes of yellow popping at the edge of his vision were gone, instead replaced by the bickering between Damian and Tim as they argued who was doing better at whatever elaborate fighting game they had set up. 

In fact, Jason was almost ready to stroll on over and tie the Copperfield reject up when, behind him, a vivid deep red flash lit up the street behind him.  _ Fuck! The second magician! _

Jason pivoted, taking out the final nuisance street sign pecking at him when he saw where the glowing red light had disappeared from. Dick laid there, halfway prone and covered in a slime monster (ew, Dick, you don’t know where the slime monster has  _ been _ ), red glow diminishing from his body.  _ Shit!  _

Jason sprinted over, nearly tripping over several downed objects but scrabbling by as he sprinted to his brother. As he got closer, he simultaneously felt relief and confusion at whatever idiocy the magician decided to unleash on Nightwing.

Dick wasn’t unconscious, he was just… Singing? Singing, as he stared blankly at the sky and let the slime slowly crawl over his left knee. 

“Dick, what the hell?” Dick’s eyes, slightly glazed over, slowly swivelled towards Jason, sluggish and almost non-reactive. Possible sign of a concussion, Jason noted in the back of his mind as he began to shove the goo off of Dick. 

Arm deep in ooze, he barely heard as Dick slowly trailed off, mumbling in confusion as he stared at Jason. Freaky.

“Nightwing? Can you hear me?” Jason tried to sound commanding, tried to be authoritative, but he sounded more panicked than anything else. He needed to reorient, STAT, in case Dick had a medical emergency he needed tending to. Dick lazily blinked at him, once, twice, before grinning. Like a dork.

“Hey Hood,” he laughed, before humming a tune Jason didn’t recognize. Words slurred, delayed response. Jason needed to get him out of there ASAP. Slime monster defeated, Jason hefted Dick up, supporting him with his shoulder, and  _ wow _ was Dick heavier than he looked. Jason was  _ not _ excited for the aches his left side would be facing come morning. 

Nonetheless, he dragged Dick away from the battle, signalling Tim and Damian to take down the last magician and wrap the battle up. 

As he led Dick away, more life seemed to come back to Dick. His feet stopped dragging, his posture straightening slightly, though he still hummed under his breath. His eyes darted everywhere, fascinated with the battle ruins scattered around the street but never stopping on one object, which was sort of unsettling. Jason, though he’d never admit it out loud, always hated seeing his brother, their commander who was  _ always _ in control, stumbling around like this. Even as he grew up, he could never quite erase that image of Nightwing from his mind, standing tall and proud over his head as he was first Robin.

Dick was slung over the back of Jason’s motorcycle, and had the presence of mind to wrap around Jason as he slid into his seat. Jason was soon heading towards the batcave, mindful of keeping slow and steady as to not drop his most-likely-concussed brother onto the gravel road. As he reached the cave, slowing to a near crawl, he slowly and calmly murmured to his brother that they were back.

He lightly tapped (slapped) Dick, checking his eyes for alertness (maybe 80% capacity, not DEFCON-1 levels of worry, but certainly not normal for Dick, control freak supreme). Dragging his brother around the cave and positioning on a cot, Jason began to perform their routine physical check up, assessing for damage and checking to see if Dick truly did have a concussion. Dick seemed to have a rash developing along his arm, which was  _ gross _ , but Jason ignored it in favor of checking Dick for other signs of head injury, skin cosmetics could be dealt with after.

So preoccupied was Jason in the  _ health _ and  _ well-being _ of his own brother, he missed Alfred walking directly behind him, startling a (manly!) screech out of him. Dick, it seemed, was also not paying attention, and he panic-flailed a scratch right on to Jason’s arm.

“What the fuck, Dick?” Jason did not  _ whine _ , dammit, but that scratch hurt! “Cut your claws, dammit.”

Dick seemed unbothered, giving only a tired hum as he leaned listlessly against Jason. He only carefully positioned Dick’s hands  _ away  _ from his body before continuing on through the routine. He waved Alfred away back to the upstairs, since their injuries were minor and Dick seemed uninjured, outside of his odd behaviors.

Jason stifled a tiny yawn, continuing to wrap up his own injuries, minor as they were. As he zoned out, he didn’t even notice the tune he was humming under his breath.

* * *

The Batmobile slid smoothly (though not quietly) into the Batcave, and Bruce quickly strode out of the car. Jason didn’t sound panicked, but slightly worried when he reported that Dick was injured and he was doing an immediate evac to the cave for medical attention. Cleanup after the battle took much longer than he had hoped, and even then he had to leave both Robin and Red Robin behind to handle containment of the wizards.

He had sped back as fast as possible, but not as quickly as he’d like. Soft orchestral music was playing, likely a remnant of Alfred manning the comms during the battle, but the music sounded… odd, to say the least. Faintly, underneath the swelling violins and cellos, a faint warbling could be heard, offbeat.  _ Oh!  _ Bruce knew what he was hearing, and felt slightly foolish for believing it was a part of the orchestra.

Sometimes birds would fly in from outside, coming in from tiny paths and cracks otherwise unreachable by humans. They’d fly in, disturb the bats slumbering away, and typically needed to be removed by one of the vigilantes before they ruined delicate equipment, but other than being a nuisance, they were harmless.

He made a move to grab the gloves they had to aid in removing the birds-- the gauntlets he wore would be too rough on their small bodies, but bare hands were prone to getting nicked by their claws. As he slipped them on, he turned to where he could hear the cheeps, he noticed two things in succession:

Firstly, both Jason’s and Dick’s armor were left in piles, which would be somewhat normal except for the fact that their  _ entire _ costume was sitting there, seemingly abandoned by his sons (which were nowhere in sight). 

Secondly, from these piles, a crow hopped out and loudly chirruped, fluttering angrily. As Bruce watched, the crow hopped up and attacked a magpie struggling to free itself from Dick’s mask, where it laid atop his armor.

Bruce could feel a stress headache forming already.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a part two to this!! I got a little carried away then realized "whoops I haven't even hit the prompt yet." I wanted to take a bit longer. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! This is completely different to what I had going on yesterday, whoops. Consistency? Who's she, I don't know her. Have a wonderful day everyone!


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